


Stupid Skateboard Trick

by patchfire, raving_liberal



Category: Glee
Genre: Alive Finn Hudson, Amnesia, Concussions, Doctors & Physicians, Fuckurt Trope Bingo, Hospitals, Injury, M/M, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-16 20:31:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4639188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchfire/pseuds/patchfire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal/pseuds/raving_liberal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How many times can Finn answer the same questions about why Puck is in the E.R.?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stupid Skateboard Trick

**Author's Note:**

> Fuckurt Trope Bingo Square: Amnesia

“So…” Puck says, squinting at Finn. “Where are we?” 

Finn sighs. “We’re in the E.R. Remember?”

“Who got hurt?” 

Finn sighs again, because this is round three of this conversation. “You did. You hit your head, so I took you to the E.R.”

“But my head doesn’t hurt, and I don’t remember that,” Puck says.

“Yeah, it does, but you keep forgetting that it hurts,” Finn explains. He pats the back of Puck’s hand. “You don’t remember because you’ve got a concussion, probably. The doctor’s supposed to come back here soon, and he’ll say for sure.”

“Wait, why is there a doctor?” Puck asks. “Where did you say we are?” 

Finn sighs yet again, taking Puck’s hand in his this time. “We’re in the E.R. because you tried to do something stupid on your skateboard, and the doctor’s coming to make sure you didn’t scramble your brains for real.”

Puck frowns. “What did I try to do? Did it look cool?”

“No, it looked stupid, because you suck at skateboarding and you don’t have to try to impress me with your stupid skills.”

“That’s not very nice to say to someone who—am I hurt?” 

“Yeah,” Finn says. “You got hurt showing off your lack of skateboard skills, but you’re probably going to be okay, so don’t worry about it too much.” He squeezes Puck’s hand and pats the back of it with his other hand. 

“Why aren’t we at home?” Puck asks. “This bed is lumpy.” 

“I know. Sorry about the lumpy bed, but E.R.s probably don’t want you to get too comfortable,” Finn says. 

Puck sighs and looks skeptically at Finn. “Why are we in the E.R. and when are we going home?” 

“We have to see the doctor before we go. We’re in the E.R. because you _definitely_ have a concussion.”

“I’ve never had a concussion! No one ever gave me one!” 

“You gave yourself one,” Finn says. “Try to calm down a little, okay? The nurse guy said I was supposed to keep you calm. They don’t want your rattling your brain more than you already did.”

“You know how to keep me calm,” Puck says, frowning at Finn again. 

Finn continues patting the back of Puck’s hand. “Yeah, but I’m not blowing you in the E.R. There’s no doors, just curtains, and anyway, you might have brain damage or something, so I think you should just try and stay still.”

“Those are dumb reasons.” Puck is quiet for a moment, then shakes his head and winces. “Why does my head hurt?” 

“One of those facehugger aliens got you,” Finn says. 

“I told you there were aliens!” Puck says. “You didn’t believe me!” 

“There aren’t any aliens, Puck. I was just kidding. You hit your head skateboarding.”

“Why was I skateboarding? Are you sure I was skateboarding? That sounds more fake than aliens.” 

Finn shrugs. “I don’t know why you do the stuff you do. You said you learned a cool new move, and then you fell off your board and hit your head on the curb.”

“That doesn’t sound cool,” Puck says. “Why didn’t you stop me?” 

“You were too fast. You were already on the ground before I realized what you were doing,” Finn says. “Sorry. I would’ve stopped you if I could’ve.”

Puck starts to look really sad, but before he can say anything or ask any more questions, the curtain around their little bed area opens, and a woman in a white coat and a pretty red headscarf walks through the curtain.

“Hello, Mister…” She checks the chart in her hand. “Puckerman. Noah Puckerman. You hit your head while skateboarding?”

“Your scarf’s pretty,” Puck says instead of answering the question.

“Thank you. It’s called a hijab.” The doctor pulls out a small penlight and shines it in Puck’s eyes. “Close your eyes for a moment, please.”

“Can I sleep now?” Puck asks as he closes his eyes. 

“Now open your eyes.” 

“What happened?” Puck asks, opening his eyes again. 

“You definitely have a concussion, though I’m not seeing a lot of visible external swelling,” the doctor says, addressing Finn more than Puck. “I’m going to order an MRI and an X-ray, to rule out any internal bleeding or fractures.”

“How long is he going to forget stuff?” Finn asks.

“What did I forget?” Puck says. “I know who you are, and who I am, and she’s a doctor.” Finn pats Puck’s hand again.

“The disorientation should pass within a day or two, though he may not ever remember the finer details of the accident itself,” the doctor explains. 

“So he won’t remember his stupid skateboard trick?” Finn asks. 

“I bet it was awesome!” Puck says. 

“No, it was stupid,” Finn says, “and if you do something like that again, I’m taking your skateboard away for your own safety.”

“You can’t do that,” Puck says, then looks at the doctor. “Can he do that?” 

“Forgetting the incident itself and the events immediately following is common with head trauma,” the doctor tells Finn, more or less ignoring Puck. 

“Okay. I guess I’ll just remind him the next time he thinks he should show off his non-existent skills,” Finn says. 

“I have skills. Take that back,” Puck says. 

“Someone will come for him soon for the X-ray and MRI,” the doctor says. “Mister Puckerman, no more skateboarding stunts for you for a while.”

“See? The doctor says no more skateboarding,” Finn says. The doctor laughs as she steps back through the curtain, closing it behind her. 

“I’m a great skateboarder. I think. Am I?” Puck asks. “You said something about a stupid trick.” 

“It’s okay. You don’t have to worry about that right now,” Finn says. He gently kisses the side of Puck’s head, the opposite side from where Puck hit it on the curb. 

“Hey, Finn?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Why is the bed so lumpy?” 

Finn kisses the side of Puck’s head again. “I’ll complain about it when they take you for your X-ray, okay? I’ll get you a less lumpy one.”

Puck nods and then looks confused. “Wait, why am I getting an X-ray?”


End file.
